


John and Eridan: binge on ice cream

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emetophilia, M/M, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-04
Updated: 2011-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	John and Eridan: binge on ice cream

you stand with him in his kitchen, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot as he pilfers through the fridge. it's weird to be in his house in any place that isn't his room, and this prolonged search for alcohol isn't helping you relax.

"of all the weekends to run outta shit you gotta pick the one your dad's away," you whine impatiently.

"it's not my fault!" comes his muffled reply, his head deep in the freezer, "it was your turn to buy it and you got scared. but hold your horses, i have something even better than booze."

he emerges, beaming, with an unopened gallon of vanilla ice cream.

"you're fuckin' kiddin'?"

but he shakes his head.

"nope, follow me." and tucking the container under one arm, he grabs a couple spoons and your hand in his other and leads you to his room.

you both sit with your backs pressed up against his bed, the tub of ice cream like a barrier between you. this sucks. it's boring and pointless and not to mention strange, considering john's history with sweets.

your train of thought derails when you glance over to see the way he's looking at you.

"why'd you slow down?" he asks, seemingly out of the blue.

you snap back at him. "your idea of a good time is gonna fuck me up--"

"but i like watching you eat."

that much is obvious. you turn away - the attention exciting you in a way that makes you feel self-aware and therefore slightly uncomfortable.

you should have known he would be all over you in an instant, pressing his chest to your back and sliding his hands up under your shirt.

"you're not done yet, eri....and i don't wanna waste it. you're thinner than i am, so it has to be you."

you try to shove him away, but his grip on you tightens and god fucking dammit, you feel his hot breath tickle your fins from behind and what he's saying is stupid and you don't even care but it's the _way_ he says it that drives you fucking insane.

you open your mouth to tell him to fuck off - but your words are replaced with a spoonful of melty ice cream.

"that's more like it," john says with a smile, scooping out another spoonful and forcing it down. his hand stroking your throat calms you, makes you realize he's no longer holding you in place.

your belly bulges and you feel sicker to your stomach with every spoonful.

"i know you wanna do this, eri..." he says, hushed and desperate. more like the john you know. he's cupping your face in his hands, coaxing your tongue out with his thumbs.

you can taste the awful sweetness on his fingertips pushing past your tongue. he laps up the saliva overflowing from your mouth the second it starts to dribble past your chin.

you're quiet when you do it alone, like everything else you do when you think of john, but you gag to play it up in front of him. clutching your stomach as its contents rise to spill past your lips, you defensively squeeze your eyes shut, but that does nothing to mute the smooth, milky texture in your throat.

and you're briefly aware of the mess you just made all over you both before the worst part comes, the second wave of retching that has you doubled over in pain.

it feels like you'll never stop, but when it does, you open your eyes to the sight of him--soaked to the skin and panting hard - and you're so preoccupied by the expression on his face that you almost don't realize where his hand is, furiously stroking himself inaide his pants.

"fuck, eridan," he whines like a tortured victim.

but you don't say anything in fear of vomiting a third time. you just cling to his shirt and press your sticky front to his. as fucked up as it is, his soiled lap is where you feel most safe.


End file.
